I Kind of Like It
by alphabet
Summary: A quick jaunt into Joe's psyche...just my idea, of course, but please review


kindof 

I was rereading some of my older stories, and this one was actually written just after I'd seen my first episode of _Digimon_, the one where the group splits up and Joe and Mimi stay behind. I had to search websites frantically to find out what Joe's brother was named, and I knew nothing about his being a hypochondriac. So please, be kind.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
You know what life is about? Finding your place. That little niche where no one else but you belongs. You don't always like it. But that's where you fit, and you know it, so you do what you have to do to make sure it's always, _always_ yours.  
  
I remember distinctly the first time that I realized what my little place was. I was about four years old; my brother was seven. He had managed to convince me that a midnight raid on the cookie jar was absolutely essential to our well being. I'll admit it didn't take much convincing.  
  
Then disaster struck.  
  
It was a successful raid until the very end--when we got greedy. Jim tipped over the cookie jar, trying to reach the last one, and it fell to the ground.  
  
The crash it made as it broke was suitably spectacular.  
  
Unfortunately for us, the suitably spectacular sound brought our parents running. They took one look at the situation and began to harangue my brother, assuming—correctly, I might add—that he was the instigator of this event.  
  
A little background would help. Jim dies every time he disappoints our parents. Mom and Dad hate to believe that Jim is less than perfect. All this ran through my four-year-old mind in less than ten seconds. And I blurted out, It was me!  
  
They stopped, mid-harangue, and stared at me. "You, Joey?" Mom asked.  
  
I nodded. "It was all my idea. I convinced Jim to come out here with me and I was the one who broke the cookie jar."  
  
It just went on from there. My niche was keeping others happy. Distracted, rather. Mom and Dad were distracted from Jim's bad behavior. Jim didn't get lectured. It all worked out.  
  
The doctor thing was kind ofI don't know. I really don't like blood. Who does? And I just didn't want to be a doctor. Jim was going to do that. Why should I have to? Couldn't I do something different? I think that was the only problem my parents and I had that was actually a _real _problem.   
  
Anyway, they sent me to soccer camp. I'm still not quite sure what they were trying to prove with that. All I know is, it led to me becoming the Reliable DigiDestined.  
  
Ah, yes. I didn't get the Crest of Courage. Or of Friendship. Or Love or Knowledge or Sincerity or Hope or Light. No, no, I got Reliability. Be truthful. Can you think of a more boring crest? But I suppose it suits me. I mean, everyone could _always_ count on me to keep them distracted.  
  
But to me, the main trouble with the digiworld (besides the obvious, that is) was that the place I'd carved for myself disappeared. What use were my skills as scapegoat? It was a survival thing there. It wasn't until I saw how scared T.K. got that I realized what I could do. I'm very good at subtly manipulating people. I'd been doing it for years.  
  
So I did it there. I made them worry about me. I freaked at the little things. I whined and worried and complained. I kept them distracted from their own fear and made them worry about mine.  
  
Don't get me wrong, though. It wasn't that I wasn't—or didn't get—scared. I got so scared that at times I almost wet myself. But most of the time, I wasn't nearly as worried as I let on. I was just doing what I'd always done.  
  
And, in all modesty, I didn't do too bad a job.  
  
Then several things detrimental to my cause happened all at once. They got used to my worrying. Matt decided to go find the true meaning of friendship by ditching us. And II let my developing feelings for Mimi complicate things.  
  
Now, I doubt there will ever be a time when I'm not boring ol' reliable, predictable me. But for just a little while, I don't have to worry about everyone else, and it's kind of a refreshing change of pace. I must say, I kind of like it.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Well, down there would be the place to put your review. Thanks for your time.


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